I never imagined my story would begin in Toledo Bend. My very favorite place in the entire world. There’s not any bad that usually ever comes from here. It’s sad—most places I used to love have sad memories with them, though. When people ask about the hardest seasons of my life, they usually think it started when Mason went to jail. But it didn’t. That was the day I finally realized I could not keep pretending everything was okay. I was at Toledo Bend with my family, enjoying what was supposed to be a normal weekend. Everyone was outside. The kids were swimming. People were talking. Boats drifted across the lake. A normal day. It was peaceful. Then my phone rang. It was our neighbor, Kim. I didn’t answer the first time. I was trying to avoid home. Trying hard. Mason and I had been fighting, and we weren’t talking very much. I just needed space. So I figured she needed something around the house, or had a random question. No big deal. A few seconds later, she called again. Something in my stomach told me to answer. “Hey, Brooke. I’m sorry to bother you.” Before she even finished her sentence, I knew something was wrong. “My brother Jeff just saw Mason getting arrested at the gas station. Lisa’s working, and she said there are several police officers there.” Lisa—Kim’s girlfriend—worked at the gas station just down the road from our house. I didn’t need to ask why. I already knew. Another DUI. His fourth. I hadn’t seen my husband’s eyes clear in weeks. I hadn’t seen them clear in… years, really, thinking back. As strange as it sounds, my first feeling was relief. He was alive. Even if this arrest could carry life-changing consequences, at least I knew he was breathing. I remember sitting there, staring out into the trees after we hung up. Just for a second, wondering, what the hell am I going to say? Around me, four or five family members sat in a circle. They watched the expression on my face, the grief shifting through me before I could find the words. I could feel everyone waiting for me to explain. I looked down at my hands, then back toward the trees. The words came slowly. I told them Mason had been arrested. I said it plainly, but hearing myself say it made the whole thing real in a way the phone call hadn’t. Nobody rushed to fill the silence. One of my family members moved closer. Someone asked if I was all right. I didn’t know how to answer. I was relieved he was alive. I was scared about what would happen next. And underneath all of it was the knowledge that this wasn’t a surprise—not really. My dad’s voice rang so loud in the echoes of my head. “I’m just not sure how you’re going to handle this emotionally—your emotions have been so all over the place about this.” It was something like that… before Mason was cuffed, before I cried. The first person I call after the arrest when I drive away… the first thing that he can point out.
